


Sons of Ashur, Daughters of Ishtar

by crackbunny



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Near East, Appendixes, Assyrian harems and eunuchs, Era-appropriate names for everyone, F/M, Gen, Harems, Jon is Ashurbanipal, Mesopotamia, Near Eastern Mythology - Freeform, Neo-Assyrian Empire, Rhaegar is Esarhaddon, Some knowledge of Assyrian history helpful, all the worldbuilding, and a timeline, but not necessary, butchering ancient languages, my school project gone out of hand, the product of my crazy brain, there's a glossary, this is what I do for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackbunny/pseuds/crackbunny
Summary: Game of Thrones ca. 680 BCE or AGOT meets Ancient Assyria





	1. Sousanna (Sansa)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a creative project I did for a college winter session class on the Neo-Assyrian Empire, its art, history, literature, and culture. The professor herself called it "Game of Thrones ca. 850 BC" and so I took that and ran with it, envisioning these favorite characters in the world of Ancient Mesopotamia in the 7th century BCE. It got...a little out of my control and thus, I have a very extensive appendix. 
> 
> Originally I was very overambitious and had 5 vignettes planned (Sansa, Dany, Myrcella, Gendry, modern day) but in the end, I only had time for two before my deadline. The events that would've been in the cancelled ones are laid out in the timeline. I thought I'd post it here and maybe someone other than me (and my professor) would enjoy my craziness.

_Sousanna, 675 B.C.E. Nineveh_

 

“My princess, please be careful!” Her elderly wet-nurse’s voice called out from behind as Sousanna skipped gaily across the gardens, her red curls bouncing as they fanned out behind her.

“ _Patrikasigníti!_ I found this for you!” She chirped, waving a red rose in her cubby fist as she approached the elegant, dark-haired woman sitting by the edge of the great fountain in the center of the gardens. The lady raised her head, gray eyes soft over the black linen veil that covered the rest of her face.

“Careful, little _lýkaina,_ ” she chided softly, catching the little girl in her arms. “Don’t give poor Adrasteia too much trouble.”

“This is for you!” Sousanna smiled brightly, raising the slightly bedraggled flower to her aunt’s face. “Ioan told me these are your favorite.”

“Thank you, little one,” the woman laughed, tucking the rose into her hair. Sousanna beamed. She thought her aunt Lysandra was the most beautiful woman in the world, with her shining black hair and warm gray eyes. She looked a lot like Father but lively and wild like the forest nymphs Mother told her stories about as she combed Sousanna’s hair. Her cousin Ioan also had the same dark hair and gray eyes like her family in Lydia. His skin was brown though, like the mud she wasn’t supposed to get on her dress, because of his father, her uncle Esarhaddon, who was a great and important king, her wet-nurse said. Sousanna and her older brother, Phaedros, didn’t look like Ioan though. They looked like Mother, with blue eyes and bronze hair. Mother said it was because she was Aeolian, from Greece across the sea.

Sousanna hadn’t seen Father and Mother in a long time. They had sent her and Phaedros on a long journey on a big boat to come and visit Uncle and Aunt and Ioan. Father had knelt down to look Sousanna in the eyes as they stood on the docks, one large hand resting on her shoulders. “Be a good girl for your _patrikasigníti,_ eh? Always know that we love you dearly and remember that you are a princess of Lydia, a _lýkaina_ , strong and fierce. Now,” he’d cracked a grin, “What are our words?”

“ _Érchetai o cheimónas,”_ she had said solemnly, lifting her chin in the air, trying to be as regal and elegant as Mother. She was four summers now, a real grown-up lady.

“ _Érchetai o cheimónas,_ ” Aunt Lysandra had murmured next to her ear as she’d swept Sousanna into a tight hug when she’d been presented at the great banquet held in her and Phaedros’ honor when they’d arrived at Nineveh. There had been lots of strange-sounding music and people wearing gold and silver everywhere. And naked ladies too – how improper! – covered in gold chains, but not covering their faces or hair (Adrasteia had told her during her lessons on the boat that was _not_ how a princess should behave). Her Uncle Esarhaddon had been there too. He was the brightest one in the room, Sousanna had decided; he looked like Helios, the sun god, in the stories her wet-nurse told her before sleep. His golden robes and silver hair looked like dancing fire. He’d been very kind as he raised her up from where she knelt next to Phaedros, in the special proper greeting Adrasteia had taught them.

“Welcome, little ones,” he’d said, smiling. It wasn’t warm like Father’s or Mother’s, but it had a kind feeling to it. “Your aunt has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.” Sousanna thought the king’s violet eyes looked happier when he spoke of her aunt.

“You look so much like your father,” Aunt Lysandra said when she greeted them after Uncle Esarhaddon, tears in her eyes. Sousanna knew that wasn’t true – everyone said she was the “spitting image” of Mother – but she thought her aunt must miss Father a lot. She missed Aguae and Bion, even if they were annoying and small and couldn’t play any games yet. She missed Mother and Father even more. She even missed the lemon cakes Cook made. The ones Aunt Lysandra had them make here didn’t taste the same.

“ _Adelphē!_ Sousanna!” Two voices rang out across the courtyard.

Sousanna perked up. Phaedros and Iaon were here! They went to a schoolroom farther away every morning, to learn how to read and write the strange letters of the language here. Ioan had shown her one of his delicate clay rectangles one day, which were covered in lots of tiny triangles and lines. She told him it didn’t look like writing at all and he’d laughed and said it was an old script that no one spoke in the Land of Ashur anymore. The two of them complained constantly about how hard their lessons were, with an old wrinkly eunuch who was apparently an distant relative of Iaon’s. Sousanna felt lucky her only lessons were with her wet-nurse Adrasteia and her aunt, who would sit with her next to the great fountain with the laughing waters, and recite poems from Homeros’ _Illias_ and _Odýsseia_ while spinning flax with the beautiful golden distaff Uncle Esarhaddon had given her. Sousanna thought her aunt’s voice was even prettier than the fountain waters and the fishes that shone like jewels in the tiled pools – which she was _absolutely not_ allowed to go near, Adrasteia said, but Aunt Lysandra had winked and promised to help her catch one.

Phaedros and Ioan came tumbling across the gardens, stopping in front of Aunt Lysandra, who reached out and wiped their sweaty brows. “Did you have a good lesson?” she asked mildly.

Iaon nodded, his black curls falling in front of his eyes. Sousanna reached up on tip-toes and tucked them back because Ioan had almost tripped once trying to blow them away and Phaedros had laughed at him until Ioan turned and tackled him and then they’d tussled until Adrasteia had come over to scold them. “Mother, that rose is pretty,” he said, flopping down onto the ground and leaning against her side.

“Thank you, my little _lýkos_ ,” Aunt Lysandra smiled, stroking his messy curls. “Sousanna found it for me.”

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Ioan grinned upwards.

Aunt Lysandra laughed, a sound like ringing silver bells. “Sousanna will be more beautiful than me someday,” she teased. “A true Queen of Love and Beauty, like our lady Ishtar.”

“I think Princess Rubati-belit is prettier,” Phaedros proclaimed, throwing small pebbles at the fishes in the pools. Sousanna stuck her tongue out at her brother and sat primly next to Ioan.

“No, she’s not,” Ioan shot back. “You just think that because she was nice to you that one time you hid in the western corridors after Dakuri threatened to give you fifty lashes for breaking his treasured tablet.” He went over to the nearest rosebush and plucked a red rose before holding it out to his female cousin. “If Mother says Sousanna will be beautiful, then she will be. I’ll make her my Queen of Love and Beauty and no one can protest because I’m a prince of Ashur!” he declared, pulling himself up to his full height of six summers.

Sousanna stared at her cousin, smiling crookedly down at her, the sunlight glistening off his unruly black curls and the golden tassels of his robe. Her cheeks warmed as she took the rose and smiled, suddenly shy. Phaedros snorted but Aunt Lysandra’s gray eyes had a curious gleam in them.

“Maybe you will indeed, Ioannes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names:  
> Sousanna- Sansa  
> Lysandra- Lyanna  
> Adrasteia- Septa Mordane  
> Ioannes/Ioan- Jon  
> Phaedros- Robb  
> Agaue- Arya  
> Bion- Bran  
> Esarhaddon- Rhaegar  
> Rubati-belit: Rhaenys
> 
> Ancient Greek (which I'm absolutely butchering, feel free to correct):  
> • patrikasigníti: “father’s sister”  
> • adelphē: “sister”  
> • lýkaina: “she-wolf”  
> • lýkos: “wolf (masc.)”  
> • érchetai o cheimónas (έρχεται ο χειμώνας): roughly “winter is coming”


	2. Gershom (Gendry)

_Gershom, 672 B.C.E. Nineveh_

Gershom stood followed apprehensively behind the two other boys as they marched down the halls. Today was the day he left the _bēt isāte_ , house of women, and the old wrinkled eunuch had hurried him and the others along, down a corridor he’d never seen, past strange stern-faced guards and heavy bolted doors, into the harsh light of outside.

“Come, my children,” the eunuch had coughed. “Come now, you are all to be scribes here in the palace of the kings. Great things may perhaps come of you.”

Gershom frowned. He’d never taken to the sharp, dagger-like language the people of this land used, even if he’d had lessons in it every day for the past eight summers. He had no memories of before he came here, to these cloistered rooms filled with women of all ages, girls, mothers, crones alike, all at the bidding of the king of kings. He was the child of a concubine, born to the king in another harem far away in the western kingdom of Judah with its shining coasts. Rehav’am, the other concubines whispered to him as he toddled at their feet as a small, stocky child. Rehav’am the Bold, Rehav’am the Hammer, Rehav’am the Reckless – a bitter voice chimed in – doomed by his foolhardy ambition when he’d dared to rebel against the might of the Assyrian yoke. The young king Esarhaddon, Lord of the Earth, King of Kings, had crushed the impetuous rebel and taken the fallen enemy’s family and harem as rightful spoils of victory.

His own mother had been one of them, a slender servant girl who’d clutched him tightly as they traveled the long distances through the desert and withered away like a plant without water only a few months after. He remembered nothing of her except faint impressions of sad blue eyes and her tight embrace. The other concubines of Rehav’am’s captured harem had raised him, all of them deposited in the _bēt isāte_ in the eastern palace, far from the western palace where the queen reigned. So here he grew, playing on the cool, stone floor as they spoke to him of the place of his birth in the tongue of his birth, sighing as they stroked his hair. They’d all stood there, even his sisters – Meheitav’el clutching her mother’s hand and little Bityah wailing in the arms of hers – watching their sons and brothers disappear through the bolted doors, lost to them forever.

Elkanah had been led away first, down another unknown corridor, by a noble man with a shining beard and gold-tasseled girdle, glancing backwards as he left. He was the son of Rehav’am by his lawful second wife, Diklah of the large ears, the rightful heir to Judah, and had already been selected from among them. This left Gershom with pale, sickly Omri and pinched, irascible Talmai.

“Come, this way,” the old eunuch wheezed again. Elkanah had whispered to him before of the rumor that flabby, beardless Dakuri was a distant cousin to the king, a lesser brother of the great Sargon. “My mother told me,” he’d said, as they crouched over their clay tablets under Dakuri’s watery eyes. “She said a king of Ashur has many sons and he must wish his heir to succeed without dissension. A gelding may not aspire to the throne.”

“It is time for your initiation,” Dakuri warbled as they entered a large open courtyard baked by the hard sun. Four men, dressed in the garbs of the Assyrian priests, waited there, their bulging forearms glistening in the sun as they watched us approach with a strangely dark, gleeful look of anger in their eyes that made Gershom’s stomach feel cold and heavy. Omri looked faint as he tried to hide behind Dakuri’s skirts while Talmai bared his teeth in a glare.

“Start with this one,” Dakuri ordered, his queer, fluty voice suddenly sharp, prickling along Gershom’s skin. The eunuch grabbed Talmai’s shoulder and pushed him forward roughly, sending the boy toppling to the ground. Two of the priest’s twisted his arms, ignoring Talmai’s enraged shout, and dragged him along the dusty courtyard to the low stone altar at the center. Talmai fought and kicked even as they ripped off his thin linen robes and loincloths, leaving him bare upon the altar, screaming obscenities in their native tongue; Gershom saw a brief flurry, then one of the burly priests struck Talmai hard across the face with the back of his hand. As Talmai spluttered, blood dripping from his nose onto the stone floor, another priest calmly stepped forward with a leather cord and looped it quickly and efficiently around the boy’s private parts, choking off the scrotum and pulling it tight – looking for all the world as if he were dressing a sheep in the king’s kitchens for a feast, as practiced and workmanlike his movements were.

Gershom suddenly recalled with dawning horror a tale his mothers had told him – that of the binding of Yitzhak by his father Avraham. Did the men in Ashur practice that as well? Were these priests going to sacrifice them all like lambs on an altar? As he and Omri watched, the last priest drew a curved, shining blade from his robes and raised it high. Gershom felt his breath stop as the wicked blade slashed through the air. Suddenly, the area between Talmai’s legs ran red with blood, spilling all over his legs. Omri let out a whimpering sound as he wobbled, red staining his bloodless lips where he’d bitten them through.

Then, of course, it was all clear.

Gershom’s throat stung with bile as he felt the soft hands of Dakuri fall upon his shoulder. He looked up into that fat, smiling face, with its jiggling skin and wrinkles that’d deepened in frustration whenever Gershom had failed to produce the correct dagger symbol, feeling the hands that had held the oxhide lash that had left red welts across his skin clamp down tightly and knew that he was next. They were done with Talmai, having seared his wound closed with burning pitch, leaving Talmai – angry, hotheaded Talmai – hoarse and limp on the ground.

“Go on, Gershom,” Dakuri whispered pleasantly. “Show them how brave you are.” His soft, moist hands pushed the boy forward purposefully towards the priests, who were waiting patiently with amiable smiles. The one holding the knife even twirled it with a flourish as Gershom slowly stepped towards the center courtyard.

“Did he really kill his son?” He remembered asking, sitting at the feet of his mothers with Meheitav’el learning to spin flax next to him.

“It was a test of loyalty, _par_ ,” one of them replied gently. “An angel flew down at the last minute and stopped Avraham, saying, ‘now I know you fear Him.’ We may fear Him but we must always be loyal and true, for we are the first among the Tribes of Israel, His chosen people.”

“We are special,” another said, stroking Meheitav’el’s hair. “You must always remember that you are the blood of kings, chosen by Him to be the light unto the nations.”

“I am the blood of kings, first among the Tribes, chosen by Him,” Gershom thought as he stepped towards the smiling priests. “I will not be defeated like this.”

He feigned meekness as he approached the priest with the knife, eyes down, fists trembling. The priest grinned widely, reaching out a hand. In that instant, Gershom charged forward with all his strength, ramming the priest in the stomach; the priest rocked backwards, all air pushed from his lungs, and the bloody knife dropped from his flailing hands. He snatched it up and slashed it at the downed priest, catching his forearm where blood squirted out. Immediately, he whirled backwards and rushed the two other nearest priests, frozen momentarily by their shock. One of them started and flushed with righteous anger, reaching out a thick, brawny arm to grab at the rebellious boy. Gershom fell to the ground and rolled, stabbing blindly with the knife as he passed by the priest’s knees. The curved blade sliced across the man’s upper thigh, prompting a howl of pain, while Gershom scrambled quickly to his feet and ran towards one of the massive granite pillars that supported the arcade at the far end of the courtyard. He pressed his back against the cool stone and turned, chest pounding, knife pointed at his tormentors.

“I am Gershom of Judah!” He shouted, his young voice raspy with fear and adrenaline. “I am a guest in your court! Is this the ways of hospitality of Ashur? Is this the way the great Esarhaddon, Lord of the Earth, King of Kings, treats his vassals?”

Silence. Then, laughter, booming like their god of storms, Marduk himself. Gershom gritted his teeth, the blood staining his face and robes salty upon his tongue. He was the blood of kings, a strong bull his mothers had said, proud and stubborn. He would not let them defeat him.

Then, he realized it was not the priests that were laughing, nor the hateful eunuch. They were all prostrated upon the ground, faces pressed to the bloody stone. Two men stepped out from the shadows across the courtyard into the blinding sunlight.

One was the noble that had led Elkanah away, his dark hair and golden ornaments glistening.

The other, resplendent in gold, was the one laughing, his silver hair glowing in the light, bright as an Assyrian god.

“Indeed,” he said, still smiling. “This is not the Ashur way of treating our guests. It is however, our way of treating our enemies.” His dark violet eyes gleamed.

Gershom bit back, “My father was your enemy. But my mothers and siblings and I have committed no treachery. We belong to the king now and we know the meaning of loyalty.”

“Do you now?” The man asked, “What do you know of it?”

Gershom glared mulishly back, “Our God tested our forefather Avraham’s loyalty with a trial of blood. So we fear and love Him, so we fear and love our lord Esarhaddon, King of Kings.”

The silver-haired man paused and looked at his companion. “This one has the spirit of a prince and the stubbornness of a bull. He reminds me much of you, Antef.”

The dark-haired noble – Antef – bowed, his right hand upon his breast. “I would like to think I had the strength of a lion, Dread Lord.”

The king laughed before turning, “Let it not be said I am not kind to my loyal subjects. Very well, this little bull shall be spared the knife.”

Antef turned to Gershom. “Bow down, Gershom, young bull, prince of Judah. Bow down to thy Lord and God.”

Gershom’s knees crumbled as he fell, the curved blade clattering from his hands as his forehead touched the cool stone floor.

“D-Dread Lord…” The old eunuch wheezed from his prostrated form.

“Arise, Great-Uncle, and speak.”

“What of the other, Dread Lord?” Dakuri puffed as he struggled with his round, flabby frame.

Weedy, ashen-faced Omri stood hidden in the shadow of a pillar, trying for all his might to disappear altogether. Gershom froze, his heart and mind curiously empty.

The king’s face hardened, his eyes two frozen amethysts framed by a halo of silver. “I think one prince is enough for today, eh? Fulfill your duty, Great-Uncle.”

The priests had learned this time. All four of them seized the quivering Omri and lifted him up by his arms and legs. His shrill voice filled the air with helpless cries as they pressed him down upon the altar and laid him bare as a skinned rabbit.

Gershom paused as a shadow loomed over him. “Raise your head, little bull,” Antef ordered calmly. “Raise your head and do not turn away. Learn what it means to be a subject of Ashur.”

Gershom raised his head and watched as the wicked blade fell, fulfilling its duty. He watched Omris’ eyes, blue as the ocean waters of Judah, blue like his own, go cloudy and blank in pain and blood.

So it was that on the day of his ninth summer, Gershom, son of Rehav’am, prince of Judah, learned what it meant to be a subject – a man – of Ashur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was inspired by a similar one in Nicholas Guild's The Assyrian. 
> 
> Names:  
> Gershom- Gendry Waters  
> Rehav'am- Robert Baratheon  
> Esarhaddon- Rhaegar Targaryen  
> Meheitav’el- Mya Stone  
> Bityah- Barra Waters  
> Elkanah- Edric Storm  
> Diklah- Delena Florent  
> Dakuri- Daeron Targaryen, brother of Jaehaerys II  
> Omri & Talmai- unnamed bastards of Robert Baratheon  
> Antef- Arthur Dayne
> 
> (more detailed relationships in Appendix)


	3. Modern Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes the fact that this was a project for class very obvious. A lot of the references to alums and my college aren't going to mean a lot if you well, don't go to my school. Feel free to skip this chapter if you wish, although it does give a little bit of background historical info on the period.

_2017 C.E. Williamstown, Massachusetts_

From the WCMA exhibit “Game of Thrones ca. 850 B.C.E.: Kings, Religion, and Palace Intrigue in the Neo-Assyrian Empire”

* * *

 

  1. **Funerary Epitaph from the Old Palace of Ashur** , ca. 630 B.C.E., gypsum. Gift of John Henry Haynes, Class of 1876.



 

This slightly cracked gypsum block preserves part of a funerary epitaph for Libăli-šarrat, Ashurbanipal’s queen who died ca. 630 B.C.E. She is notable for the dedication to her on the bull colossi in the Southwest Palace (15) at Nineveh, which illustrates their deeply affectionate marriage.

 

* * *

 

  1. **Cylinder fragment** , probably Nineveh, ca. 670 B.C.E., gypsum. Gift of John Henry Haynes, Class of 1876.



 

Found in the Library of Ashurbanipal, this cylindrical fragment contains an inscription of Ĕsarra-hamat, Esarhaddon’s wife, describing construction of a palace for her son Ashurbanipal in the citadel of Ninevah, behind the temples of Sin and Šamaš. Ĕsarra-hamat is unusual for Assyrian queens in her presence in written archaeological evidence as a clear favorite of her husband as well as a major supporter, and even possibly regent, of her son. Her origins have been widely debated, due to inscriptions with a distinctly Greek-sounding name, Lysandra, on personal objects attributed to her. Some scholars believe that she was a present from the Cypriot kings to Sennacherib, while others think she was a captive from Esarhaddon’s wars against the Philistine city-states.

 

* * *

 

  1. **Gold bowl with scorpion decoration** , Ashur, ca. 630 B.C.E., gold. Gift of John Henry Haynes, Class of 1876, by exchange.



 

This delicate gold bowl was found amongst the funerary objects in the grave of what’s believed to be Libăli-šarrat in the tombs under the Old Palace at Ashur. It is decorated with a repeating motif of scorpions, which was only found on objects belonging to women. The scorpion was associated with the goddess Ishara, who is the goddess Ishtar in her married state, and it seemed to have been widely used as a fertility charm by women in the harems hoping to bear the king’s child. This bowl also has a standard inscription along the rim, identifying its owner: “belonging to Libăli-šarrat, MÍ.É.GAL, wife of Ashurbanipal, king of Assyria.” However, unusually, there is another inscription on the bottom of the bowl in Lydian, a little known and largely lost Anatolian language, which could hint at the queen’s foreign origins.

 

* * *

 

  1. **Battle of Iyyon relief from the Southwest Palace at Nineveh** , ca. 680 B.C.E., gypsum. Gift of Sir Austen Henry Layard through Dwight W. Marsh, Class of 1842.



 

This impressive relief, spread out over three different gypsum panels, stood in Room 36 of the Southwest Palace at Nineveh, opposite to a later relief from Ashurbanipal’s time of the Battle of the River Ulial. The scenes depict Esarhaddon crushing the rebellion of king of Judah, Rehav’am, at the Battle of the River Iyyon, an event that happened almost concurrently with his ascension to the throne in 681 B.C.E. Note the towering, larger than life figure of the king himself that covers the middle panel, personally striking the final blow down upon the breast of the cowering enemy king. The inscription along the bottom describes Esarhaddon razing the cities and bringing back the loot, which included Rehav’am’s own family and harems. Drawing from this and other fragmentary textual and pictorial evidence, some historians believe Ĕsarra-hamat, his wife and mother of the future king Ashurbanipal, was one of these captives.

 

* * *

 

  1. **Broken oracle tablet** , Nineveh, ca. 670 B.C.E., gypsum. Gift of John Henry Haynes, Class of 1876.



 

This broken tablet has been pieced back together to reveal its inscription, which is an oracle request from the king Esarhaddon to the god Šamaš for guidance on a treaty combined with a royal marriage match of a princess of the blood with Bartatua, king of the Scythians, a nomadic people to the far north of Assyria. He is contemplating this political alliance, which would make Scythia a nominal vassal of the Neo-Assyrian Empire, and wishes to have divine counsel. Such royal marriage alliances were fairly common in ancient Mesopotamian diplomacy. Sargon II, Esaharddon’s grandfather, gave one of his daughters in marriage to the Anatolian prince Ambaris of Bit-Purutaš, in order to form a powerful buffer state against their northern rivals the Urartu. The fact that Ambaris eventually betrayed the alliance may have caused Esarhaddon some hesitation. We do not know the name of the specific princess from this tablet, but there are mentions elsewhere in the Library of Ashurbanipal that it was an _ahat šarri_ , “king’s sister,” named Dadu-seruya who was chosen – although it could have been another as this is the only of Esarhaddon’s sisters’ names to exist in our discovered records. In any case, there has been some archaeological evidence unearthed in recent years in the Eurasian steppes suggesting that this marriage alliance was indeed forged.

 

* * *

 

  1. **Winged bull colossus from Southwest Palace at Nineveh** , ca. 650 B.C.E., gypsum. Gift of Sir Austen Henry Layard through Dwight W. Marsh, Class of 1842.



 

Originally as part of a pair that flanked the entrance of the women’s quarters in the Southwest palace constructed under Ashurbanipal, this bull is most remarkable for its inscription, which is of a personal nature not associated with war or conquest. It is of the king Ashurbanipal himself writing an emotional and adoring dedication to his queen Libăli-šarrat. The surviving fragment reads: “And for Libăli-šarrat, MÍ.É.GAL, my beautiful wife, whose features Belet-ili has made perfect above all women, I had a palace of loveliness, delight, and joy built…” To demonstrate the extent of his affection, Ashurbanipal chose to use the word _hirtu_ in the inscription, which means “wife of equal status with husband,” usually only used with human women in literary contexts. Thus by using _hirtu_ in his effusive praise here, Ashurbanipal is putting his queen on equal status with himself, the king of kings, very briefly, a not insignificant show of respect and affection in the highly male-dominated Assyrian society – but still only within the fictive realm of literature, not the official political realm of titles and addresses.

The word MÍ.É.GAL is a Sumerogram that translates into Akkadian as _sēgallu_ or _issi ekalli_ , meaning “consort or wife.” The Assyrian concept of “queen” was limited to goddesses or those rare foreign women who ruled in their own right, so while we use the word to refer to certain wives of the kings, the word itself refers both to the primary consort as well as an ill-defined group of secondary wives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names:  
> Ashurbanipal: Jon  
> Libăli-šarrat: Sansa (her later Akkadian name)  
> Esarhaddon: Rhaegar  
> Ĕsarra-hamat: Lyanna (her Akkadian name)  
> Rehav'am: Robert Baratheon  
> Bartatua: Khal Drogo  
> Dadu-seruya: Daenerys


	4. Appendix

Terms

Akkadian

  * _sēgallu_ : “queen”
  * _issi ekalli_ : “woman of the palace, wife”; roughly equivalent to secondary wife
  * _sekretu_ : “concubine”
  * _marat šarri_ : “daughter of the king”
  * _ahat šarri_ : “king’s sister”
  * _ummi šarri_ : “mother of the king”
  * _bēlat bēti_ : “Lady of the House,” head of the harem
  * _šakintu_ : manageress of the harem
  * _rabsaris_ : chief of the eunuchs
  * _turtanu_ : commander-in-chief



Ancient Greek

  * _patrikasigníti_ : “father’s sister”
  * _adelphos_ : “brother”
  * _adelphē_ : “sister”
  * _afthaímon_ : “of the same blood, kinsman”
  * _lýkaina_ : “she-wolf”
  * _lýkos_ : “wolf (masc.)”
  * _érchetai o cheimónas_ (έρχεται ο χειμώνας): roughly “winter is coming”



Ancient Hebrew

  * _par_ : “young bull, steer”



* * *

 Characters

_Harem at Nineveh_

  * Elia Martell: _(Egy.)_ Ahaneith, named after goddess Neith, _(Akk.)_ Nin-kummu, “Lady of the Palace”; princess of Egypt, _sēgallu_
    * daughter, Rhaenys: _(Akk.)_ Rubati-belit; Rubati means “Lady of the Gods,” Belit means “the lady (par excellence)”; _marat šarri_
    * son, Aegon: _(Akk.)_ Shalmaneser; crown prince
    * lady-in-waiting, Ashara Dayne: _(Egy.)_ Amenset _,_ “daughter of the sun,” _šakintu_
  * Lyanna Stark: (Gr.) Lysandra, “defender of man,” _(Akk.)_ Ĕsarra-hamat; princess of Lydia, _issi ekalli_
    * son, Jon Snow: _(Akk.)_ Ashurbanipal, “Assur has begotten a son,” ( _Gr._ ) Ioannes, Greek version of “John”
    * nephew, Robb Stark: _(Gr.)_ Phaedros, “bright”; crown prince of Lydia, hostage at Assyrian court 
      * bodyguard Rodrick Cassel: _(Gr.)_ Demostrate, “army of the people”
    * niece, Sansa Stark: _(Gr.)_ Sousanna, “lily,” _(Akk.)_ Libăli-šarrat; princess of Lydia, hostage at Assyrian court 
      * wet-nurse Septa Mordane: _(Gr.)_ Adrasteia
  *  Daenerys Targaryen: _(Akk.)_ Dadu-seruya, Dadu means “beloved one,” Seruya means “wife of Assur”; _ahat šarri_
    * slave, Missandei: __(Ela.)_ _ Manzat _, “rainbow”_
  *  Delena Florent: _(Heb.)_ Diklah, “palm grove”; secondary wife of Rehav’am, _sekretu_
    * son, Edric Storm: _(Heb.)_ Elkanah, “God has purchased”; son of Rehav’am, hostage at Assyrian court
  *  Various unnamed concubines from the captured harem of Rehav’am (Robert Baratheon), all _sekretu_
    * Gendry Waters: _(Heb.)_ Gershom, “a stranger there”; son of Rehav’am by a concubine, hostage at Assyrian court
    * Mya Stone: _(Heb.)_ Meheitav’el, “God makes happy”; daughter of Rehav’am by a concubine, hostage at Assyrian court
    * Barra Waters: _(Heb.)_ Bityah, “daughter of Yahweh”; daughter of Rehav’am by a concubine, hostage at Assyrian court
    * Other of Robert Baratheon’s bastards: _(Heb.)_ Omri,“life, servant”; Talmai, “furrowed”
  * Daeron Targaryen: _(Akk.)_ Dakuri, “son of the crusher”; uncle of Sennacherib, brother of Sargon, eunuch and scribe



_Court of Nineveh_

  * Rhaegar Targaryen: _(Akk.)_ Esarhaddon “Assur has given a brother”; King, son of Sennacherib (Aerys II “The Mad” Targaryen)
  * Viserys Targaryen: _(Akk.)_ Vul-nirari; brother of the king
  * Varys: ( _Akk_.)  Akhabbu, “descended from my father’s brother," _rabsaris_
  * Jon Connington: _(Akk.)_ Kan-nunai; _vizier_
  * Arthur Dayne: _(Egy.)_ Antef, “star of the divine father”; princeling of Egypt sent to Assyrian court, _turtanu_
    * wife, Shaena Targaryen: _(Akk.)_ Shala-anatu, Shala means “lady,” Anatu means “pure, spotless, taintless”; _ahat šarri_



  _Harem at Babylon_

  * Cersei Lannister: _(Bab.)_ Sarpanitum, “consort of Marduk”; noblewoman of Babylon, _issi ekalli_
    * son, Joffrey: _(Akk.)_ Gallu-yav, Gallu means “a class of evil spirits,” Yav means “the Inundator”
    * daughter, Myrcella: _(Bab.)_ Mylitta, “the mother of the child”; _marat šarri_
    * son, Tommen: _(Akk.)_ Toma-mamamis



  _Lydian Royal Family_

  * Ned Stark: _(Gr.)_ Eukleides, “good glory”; King of Lydia, Heraclid dynasty 
    * wife, Catelyn Stark: _(Gr.)_ Hekaterine, “pure”; Aramean noblewoman from Eber-Nari, born of an Aeolian Greek mother 
      * son, Robb Stark: _(Gr.)_ Phaedros, “bright”; crown prince of Lydia, hostage at Assyrian court
      * daughter, Sansa Stark: _(Gr.)_ Sousanna, “lily,” _(Akk.)_ Libăli-šarrat; princess of Lydia, hostage at Assyrian court
      * daughter, Arya Stark: _(Gr.)_ Agaue, “noble”
      * son, Bran Stark: _(Gr.)_ Bion, “life”
      * son, Rickon Stark: _(Gr.)_ Krates, “power”



* * *

Timeline of Events

  * **681 BCE:**
    * Sennacherib assassinated by sons.
    * Esarhaddon comes back to Nineveh and defeats his brothers in a 6-week civil war. They flee to Urartu; their families and supporters are executed.
    * He is crowned king in early spring.
    * Rehav’am, King of Judah, rebels. Esarhaddon defeats and kills him at the Battle of the River Iyyon. He brings Rehav’am’s family and harem back to Nineveh. Esarhaddon falls in love at first sight with Lysandra, the queen, and makes her his _issi ekalli,_ giving her the Akkadian name Ĕsarra-hamat.
  * **680 BCE:** Ashurbanipal is born.
  * **676 BCE:** Phrygia falls to the Cimmerans. Lydia drives them out and incorporates Phrygia as a province.
  * **675 BCE:** Phaedros (6) and Sousanna (4), crown prince and princess royal of Lydia, arrive at court in Nineveh as hostages.
  * **674 BCE:** Princess Dadu-seruya, sister of Esarhaddon, is married to King Bartatua of Scythia (Khal Drogo) in an alliance against Media.
  * **672 BCE:** Gershom, son of Rehav’am, turns nine and leaves the women’s quarters. He narrowly escapes castration and meets King Esarhaddon and Antef.
  * **671 BCE:** Crown Prince Shalmaneser, son of Esarhaddon and queen Nin-kummu, dies. His younger son, Prince Ashurbanipal is named heir. A loyalty contract is made with leading Assyrian courtiers, members of the royal family, and foreign rulers.
  * **668 BCE:**
    * Esarhaddon dies of sudden illness in autumn.
    * Ashurbanipal (12) is crowned King of Assyria. He takes his cousin Sousanna as queen, giving her the Akkadian name Libăli-šarrat.
    * His older brother Gallu-yav is crowned King of Babylonia, taking the regnal name Shamash-shum-ukin. Babylonia remains subject to Assyria.
  * **664 BCE:** Crown Prince Ashur-etil-ilani, “Ashur is Lord of the Gods,” is born to the king and queen.
  * **663 BCE:** Crown Prince Phaedros returns to Lydia to take the throne.
  * **659 BCE:** Queen Mother Ĕsarra-hamat dies. She is buried in the tombs under the Old Palace at Ashur.
  * **652 BCE:** Shamash-shum-ukin rebels in Babylonia.
  * **648 BCE:** Babylonia surrenders. Shamash-shum-ukin, his mother, and grandfather are executed. His younger siblings are spared and brought back to Nineveh as hostages.
  * **634 BCE:** Queen Libăli-šarrat dies. She is buried in the tombs under the Old Palace at Ashur.
  * **631 BCE:** Ashurbanipal dies. Ashur-etil-ilani succeeds the throne.



* * *

Geography (see map)

  * The North: Lydia/Phrygia
  * Iron Islands: Cyprus
  * Vale of Arryn: Šubria/Kummuhi
  * Riverlands: Eber-Nari
  * Westerlands: Babylon
  * Crownlands: Assyria proper
  * The Reach: Mannea
  * Stormlands: Judah
  * Dorne: Egypt


  * The Free Cities: Phoenician city-states
  * Dothraki: Scythia
  * Wildings: Cimmerans
  * Mountain clans: Medeans/Media




End file.
